


Prelude

by sssibilance



Series: To Cardassia, With Love [4]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cardassian Anatomy, Cardassians, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 08:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19787182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sssibilance/pseuds/sssibilance
Summary: Though part of a series, this may be read as a stand-alone piece.After a long-distance relationship, Bashir takes a leap of faith and travels to Cardassia to live with Garak post-Dominion War.This piece takes place before "Twinings" and "The Joke Would Be...". If you're a purist, you may read it first.





	Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Details of Cardassian biology are borrowed from [tinsnip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinsnip/pseuds/tinsnip), with many thanks. You can read her speculations on Cardassian reproductive biology [here](https://tinsnip.tumblr.com/post/67613563632/okay-so-i-just-read-your-ticks-fic-and-wow-that). I recommend reading it if only as a guide to Cardassian terms I use, however you shoild be able to understand the narrative without reading it.
> 
> Parts of this fic are inspired by Andrew (J.) Robinson's Garak-centric novel, A Stitch in Time. Tolan, the shed, and references to Garak's mother are all taken from that text. Having read the book is not necessary to understand the work here.

When Garak arrived to transporter pad five in Cardassia City's brand new travel and commuter hub, harried but on time, the operator was running late and talking to the transporter chief on the Federation starship _Mary G. Ross_. Garak consulted the large screen displaying the names of all arriving ships and the passengers due to beam down. It took a moment to find Bashir's name, as it was not spelled in Federation Standard English, but rather written phonetically in Cardassian, and was placed at the end of the list. Garak did not see any other Human names on the transporter schedule. The _Ross_ was there delivering much-needed medical supplies and a party of Cardassians from a damaged transport ship, as well as a certain Human doctor who was here to start a new job at Cardassia City Central Hospital.

After a wait of about 10 minutes, the operator finally seemed satisfied with whatever her counterpart on the _Ross_ told her because she was now swiftly tapping commands into the console in front of her. "Energizing!" she called out, and Garak felt a bright flash of anxiety. Having been trained to keep a firm hold on his emotions, particularly dangerous ones like anxiety, Garak was generally able to combat the feeling. However, today was both a hugely important day and headache-inducingly hectic day. Traffic getting to the transportation hub had been difficult thanks to land shuttle traffic, road construction, and slow trains. Cardassia still had infrastructure problems and was going through what Humans called "growing pains." The transportation hub Garak stood waiting in was newly built, large, and very full. Commuters and long-distance passengers moved like Borg drones toward trains, shuttles, and transporter pads. Children ran and yelled, families hugged and kissed goodbye, and commuting workers talked loudly into communicators as they crammed themselves into trains. The press of people left Garak feeling a little claustrophobic, however the hub's high ceilings saved him from having a panic attack.

Garak took deep breaths. He had something more important to focus on. He watched the pad as the passengers materialized in shimmering light. Garak did not at first see Bashir, but when people started to walk away from the pad, Garak spotted him in the back, behind a couple with several children. Their baby was shrieking, but Garak heard Bashir call his name. Bashir was wearing civilian clothes: a dark grey suit with the vest open, and a large black bag with the strap crossed over his chest. 

And then the doctor was heading quickly toward him with his arms starting to spread, a wide smile on his face. Generally, Garak preferred to be more circumspect and avoid public displays of affection, but people were already staring at the sole human around, and he had been waiting a long time to touch Bashir. He happily stepped into the hug.

"Don't worry," Bashir said, his mouth at Garak's ear. "I won't make a scene." It was too late for that: the two women with the children stood staring, their mouths slightly agape. It didn't matter. This was the first time he had hugged Julian Bashir. This was the first time he'd seen him in over a year. Garak was not the type of person to care what others thought, particularly in that moment. 

"Gods," said Bashir. He was close to squeezing the air right out Garak's lungs, but Garak didn't care. "I'm so glad to be here," Bashir murmured, his words tickling Garak's ear. Bashir smelled wonderful: the mild musk of a Human, layered with whatever soap he had used.

Garak gently took hold of Bashir's arms and pried them off his body. He stepped back and while doing so, brought Bashir's hands together and kissed them. "My dear Doctor," Garak said, looking straight at Bashir, who was smiling widely. "I can hardly say how happy I am to see you." 

"And I'm thrilled to see you," Bashir said, still smiling widely. 

Garak cast a look around. A few curious eyes were trained on them, but they were not the centre of attention. That, and Bashir's safe arrival eased his anxiety. He squeezed Bashir's hands. "It's been a long wait, Doctor." The last time Garak had seen Bashir in person was when they said goodbye on Deep Space Nine, and they had not been together since then. Back then, they hadn't even been sure they'd ever see each other again. The official duration of their long distance relationship was 10 months, at which point they began to discuss Bashir visiting. It did not take long for them to decide that a simple, short visit would be insufficient. They had enjoyed a seven year flirtation, a period in which they poured their heart out in letters, and then a desperate long distance courtship. Bashir's visit would be a permanent move. It wasn't how Cardassians normally courted, and many Humans might consider it reckless, but both Garak and Bashir felt it was the logical next step in their relationship. When Garak had questioned if Bashir was nervous about resigning his commission and leaving the posting he loved, Bashir had insisted he was certain he was making the right decision. 

"I'll be 35 this year, and will only be getting older," Bashir had said. He and Ezri had split amicably, and so many of his friends, like Chief O'Brien, had left the station. He'd insisted it was time for a change. "I want to take a leap of faith while I'm still young." 

And here was Bashir, now right in front of him. It was still hard to believe the Bashir was here on Cardassia Prime. Garak locked eyes with Bashir and squeezed his hands. "Are you ready to take that 'leap of faith,' Doctor?" 

"Absolutely." Now it was Bashir's turn to kiss Garak's hands. "Are you taking me home now?"

"As quickly as I can manage it," Garak promised.

"Oh, good." Bashir took firm hold of Garak's hand and held it at his side. "I can't wait to kiss you."

...

They arranged for Bashir's other two pieces of luggage to be delivered the next morning before heading home. His luggage, containing his carefully curated worldly possessions consisted of one small Starfleet-issue trunk and a second large bag. That relatively small amount of luggage was plenty when one considered the size of Garak's living space. The trunk was made of recyclable material, which was important, because it would be difficult fitting it in the house. Garak knew Bashir hadn't collected a great deal of stuff while in Starfleet, but he still had to take a hard look at what worldly possessions he had amassed and decide what to keep. This was what Bashir had agreed to when he had made the decision to resign his commission and move himself to Cardassia, having only seen holo photos of the workspace Garak had turned into a home. Bashir had done such a good job whittling his possessions down to the precious and essential, he had room to bring a small amount of medical supplies along with his own doctor's bag, filled with his personal equipment. 

When they had first begun discussing the possibility of Bashir moving to Cardassia Prime, Garak had wondered aloud if Bashir had ever seen such a small living space. Bashir surprised him by sending images of "tiny homes" that apparently some humans actually preferred to a house or flat. Some were in fact smaller than Garak's own space. The doctor had never lived in a tiny house himself, but he had shared a small dormitory as an undergraduate with two other students. This eased Garak's mind a great deal. 

Garak had worried Bashir would feel uncomfortable being one of the few Humans on Cardassia Prime, apart from Starfleet personnel who beamed down to deliver aid and then beamed back up to their large, comfortable ships. However, Bashir seemed at ease as they rode the street shuttle to the stop nearest Garak's - and now Bashir's - home. Bashir chatted on about his two-week journey on the _Ross_ , the stops they had made, the people he had met, and the medical seminar he had been to that morning. Passengers cast glances at the talkative human, who was undeterred by stares. Bashir shared his delight at the late winter weather, as it was 16 degrees Centigrade. It was cool for Garak, who wore a thicker tunic, but apparently more comfortable for Bashir.

Bashir also ventured a hello in Cardassian at a toddler who was staring in fascination at him, fingers in mouth. Garak felt much better knowing Bashir was excited, and found his mood infectious, although Garak was able to hide it much better.

It was a short walk from where the shuttle dropped them off to the house. The house was previously his late adoptive father Tolan's workspace, situated near the ruins of Enabran Tain's estate. He had lived on the estate with Mila and Tolan. Garak had erected a stone memorial to Mila, but had not rebuilt the large house, instead installing what was needed to make Tolan's workspace a little home. At some point Garak and Bashir could find a larger space to live, but first they must prove they could live together.

After just a few minutes of walking along an intact walkway, Garak's little house came into view. There was a wide array of plants outside: some in raised wooden boxes, others sprouted from the ground, and others yet hung from the eaves in baskets. Most were flowering plants that grew and bloomed year-round Cardassia's climate, some were hibernating. The garden was planned well so that any plant that hibernated in the winter was surrounded by plants that did not. There was a bench next to the door and up against the house, clearly there to sit and enjoy the garden. The building itself was tan, but the bright colours of the garden made the house anything but plain. Garak had put a lot of energy into the garden, which crept around the building, so he was pleased to see Bashir stopping to stare at the variety of plants.

"Garak, it's lovely."

"I'm pleased you think so. If you like, I can teach you the names of each plant and how to care for them."

"I would love to learn, Garak." Bashir leaned down to smell purple pressi flowers in full bloom and smiled.

Garak hummed in response as he keyed his code into the door, then offered his thumbprint to unlock it. Garak didn't have much to steal apart from his computer, but Bashir had not only come with his own computer, he had also brought a medical tricorder, bone knitter, laser scalpel, and other valuable equipment. Regardless of the value of their possessions, the paranoia instilled by Garak's Obsidian Order training, which began when Garak was a young man, was hard to ignore. He'd have to set up a security profile for Bashir tonight, so he could come and go as he pleased. There was also a hidden safe for storing any valuables, and Bashir would need a security profile for that as well.

After Garak pressed his thumb against the scanner on the door, the locking mechanism clicked and the door fell ajar. "Here we are," Garak said, pushing the door all the way open and leading Bashir inside. Garak worked to modulate his voice and not reveal his anxiety about what Bashir's opinion might be.

But Bashir smiled as he walked over the threshold and quietly took in the house. "It's actually a little bigger than I thought it would be," the doctor said after a few moments. "It's like a tiny cottage, especially with the garden," he added. He shrugged the shoulder his bag was slung over and asked, "Where should I put this?

"This way." Garak gestured to the back of the house where the bed was. He pulled the curtain around the bed and they both stood awkwardly behind it.

"I just want to change out of this damn suit," Bashir finally said. 

"I can go..." Garak started, but Bashir shook his head. 

"You've seen me naked before, Garak." That much was true. They had made their long-distance relationship bearable with many a subspace video call, some of which were for the sole purpose of mutual masturbation. So Garak sat on the bed and did his best not to ogle the doctor as Bashir slid out of his vest, shirt, collar, and trousers. Bashir's suit was a dark grey vest with matching trousers and a lighter grey shirt. The collar was white. It was not the most flattering suit for Bashir, as the cut was all wrong for his slim figure. It was probably a replicated suit, and Garak vowed to make Bashir a more suitable one.

Bashir, standing in his smallclothes, caught the look on Garak's face and laughed. "I know, I know it's hideous. I'm so used to just throwing on a dress uniform. The only suits I had were for the holosuite, and were the tuxedo for the Bond program and my suit for Vic's."

"We shall remedy that, Doctor."

Bashir chuckled. "Hopefully I won't be needing one anytime soon. I was relieved to find out doctors at the hospital wear a uniform." Garak wanted to say, they had better pay for the uniform, they're hardly paying you, but held his tongue. The hospital was understaffed and underfunded. Consequently, they had a shortage of doctors, nurses, and medics and therefore were happy to hire a Human, provided they had experience treating Cardassians. Bashir of course had treated many a Cardassian. As for the pay, Garak had money put away, so there was no need for Bashir to worry too much about his salary, but Garak's unvoiced complaint was based on principle. Bashir was insistent that he work, which Garak could understand. Bashir no doubt wanted to feel useful.

Bashir stood in his underthings, searching sloppily through his bag. He came up with black pants and a deep purple shirt and put them on. The shirt made Garak think he might end up making several outfits for Bashir. He couldn't wear his hospital uniform all the time, and Garak seriously doubted the rest of Bashir's clothes were any better than his suit and this outfit.

Now dressed, Bashir zipped the bag closed, setting it against the wall opposite the bed. Garak picked up the suit, hung the pieces on hangers, and hung the suit on a hook in the wall until they could put all of Bashir's clothes away.

"Are you hungry?" Garak inquired. "We need to go to the market tomorrow to buy food, but we have bread, _meerat_ , and a few other things."

"I'm ravenous," Bashir admitted. "All I've had today was two mimosas and a few bites of a muffin at the seminar this morning." It was mid afternoon now. "It was not exactly filling."

"Well then." Garak answered. "Come with me." Garak turned to the kitchenette, which was in truth simply some counter space and small appliances against the eastern wall. There was no way Bashir actually needed help finding the kitchenette, as the home had what could generously be referred to as an open floor plan. The kitchenette was visible from the sleeping area and could be reached in several steps.

"Wait," Bashir said, reaching for Garak's elbow. "Will you kiss me?" Given they had never kissed in the eight years they'd known each other, and that one of the motivations behind Bashir moving to Cardassia Prime was their desire to be more intimate, it was easy to grant assent. Garak answered by stepping in closer to Bashir, who placed his hands lightly on Garak's shoulders and leaned in, just as Garak reached for Bashir's waist. Their lips met, chaste at first, but after a few seconds, they both opened their mouths, and Garak let his tongue tangle with Bashir's. They kissed that way for several moments, until Bashir's stomach rumbled loudly. They both pulled away and Bashir laughed.

"I guess I'm more hungry than I thought," Bashir said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"Come," Garak said. He took Bashir's hand in his own, and they walked over to where an ovular table stood, its presence in the vicinity of the oven, coolbox, and sink made it an obvious kitchen table. While it was where Garak took his meals, it was also used as a work space and at the far end of the table several pieces of tailoring equipment and a bag filled with neatly folded fabrics took up space.

Garak pulled out a chair for Bashir, away from the tools and fabric. "I didn't go shopping because I wanted you to pick out what you want to eat at the market tomorrow," Garak explained. "Have you had _meerat_?" Bashir had been trying various Cardassian foods back on Deep Space Nine, as well as starting Cardassian language classes as he and Garak prepared for his move here.

"Yes, I've had it," Bashir said, sitting down. He folded his hands and rested them on the table top, looking like an expectant pupil. "It was replicated, not fresh. It reminded me of goat cheese."

Garak paused in front of the coolbox. "Is that a problem?"

"No, no. I like goat cheese. I don't know how a dairy free food can taste like cheese. If meerat producers marketed it as vegan goat cheese and got Humans to buy it, they'd seriously increase their revenue." Bashir peered over to where Garak was plating the soft, spreadable _meerat_ and cutting slices of bread. "Do you need help with anything?" 

"No, but thank you."

"Are you sure? You don't have to do everything," Bashir reminded him.

"It's my pleasure," Garak insisted, placing some sliced fruit onto a platter with the _meerat_ and coarse brown bread. It was indeed Garak's pleasure. They had always bonded over food, and Garak knew Bashir enjoyed eating immensely. Fixing a simple meal for Bashir pleased Garak. It would be the simplest but also the most intimate meal they had ever eaten together.

Bashir could apparently not stand being waited on and stood to fetch plates and knives. "Did you hear back about the replicator?" Garak had told Bashir last week that he might be able to get a used replicator.

"Yes. It would seem you and I must content ourselves with our own cooking for the time being. The only replicators working and with rations are in hospitals, shelters, and other critical locations." Garak carried the small platter over to the table and Bashir followed him.

"Well, that's exactly where they should be," Bashir said. "I'm not much of a chef, but between the two of us I think we can keep ourselves fed."

"I wholeheartedly agree, Doctor." Garak pulled down two glasses from the shelf. "Would you like some water?"

Bashir was already using the knife to spread _meerat_ onto a slice of stiff bread. He nodded vigorously. "Please."

Garak poured them both glasses and sat down to his own plate. The water was clean and cold. Bashir's mouth was full, but he still offered a "thank you" before taking a long drink of water, ostensibly to wash the large mouthful of _meerat_ and bread down. Garak carefully spread a little of the _meerat_ onto bread and took a measured bite. It was quite good. _Meerat_ was a spread made from the _meer_ , a vegetable and the milk of the _at_ a nut. It was easy to make, cheap, and contained a good serving of protein and fat, making it perfect for poor and hungry Cardassians. Garak could afford more expensive foods, but he had eaten a great deal of _meerat_ on this kind of dense, brown bread as a child and had fond memories of it. 

Bashir took a second piece of bread and used his knife to carefully take more of the spread. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you at the transport hub. I should have asked before hugging you. I was so excited to see you in the flesh I forgot my manners."

"I wasn't embarrassed," Garak assured him. "Consent is important, so I accept your apology, but I also give you permission to hug me whenever you like."

"You might come to regret that promise," Bashir warned him, digging into the fruit. "I like to hug."

"No," Garak said. "I don't think I shall."

While they finished their simple meal, Garak quizzed Bashir about how he wanted to spend the week of free time he had before he had to report to work at the hospital.

"Honestly?" Bashir reached for Garak's free hand and squeezed it. "We don't have to do anything special. I'm happy just being here. I do want to start to learn my way around the city, though."

"That's easily done," Garak assured him. He kissed Bashir's hand. "I think you'll enjoy seeing the market tomorrow."

"I think so, too." Bashir looked down at their empty plates and then back at Garak. "Well. Do you want me to wash the dishes?"

"The dishes can wait, I think." Keeping hold of Bashir's hand, Garak spoke. "If you want, you can come closer and we can do something a little more enjoyable."

Bashir grinned. "Are you propositioning me?"

"Yes indeed."

"Oh, good." Bashir reached for Garak's free hand and stood, pulling Garak up with him. "Take me to bed immediately."

Garak let himself be dragged to the rear of the space. "You're a little demanding, aren't you?"

"Just a little. Tell me if it's too much." He walked backward as he pulled Garak, stopping when he hit his heel on the base of the bed. "Whoops!" He stumbled and sat down hard.

"Do be careful," Garak warned him. Garak sat down next to Bashir. "I'd hate to have to take you to the emergency department before you start your job there."

Bashir laughed at that, his eyes sparkling. "That might be awkward. I promise to be a little more careful." He leaned in a little closer. "Would you like to see how carefully I can kiss?"

It was Garak's turn to laugh. "Certainly." He moved in to match lips with Bashir's. This time, their kiss did not stay chaste long. When Garak pushed his tongue into Bashir's mouth Bashir groaned like a starving man sinking his teeth into a rich meal. The wanton sound made Garak's scales tingle and with his hand on Bashir's face he pressed harder into the kiss. Bashir's face had a slight shadow of stubble, which scratched at both Garak's face and palm.

Kissing was quite nice, but Bashir seemed a little antsy and Garak felt a similar impatience in his chest. They'd waited a long time for shared physical intimacy, and both were thinking of only one thing. After just a few minutes, Bashir broke from the kiss, flushed and breathing hard. He kicked off his house sandals and went for Garak's tunic. Garak helped Bashir pull the garment over his head and throw it to the floor. Bashir pulled his own top off and it joined the tunic, starting a pile of clothes on the floor. Garak for once did not mind the mess. Bashir scooted himself up the bed, then started unfastening his trousers. Garak followed him and helped pull the trousers off, along with his underthings. Garak got his first in-person look at the Human prUt, which was half-hard and accompanied by a scrotum, both obviously alien. Garak and Bashir had spent a fair amount of time over the last 10 months engaging in what Humans called "subspace sex." Garak had seen Bashir pleasure himself many times this way, and Bashir had received a crash course in what Cardassian anatomy texts did not describe. Despite this, seeing Bashir's Human prUt in person was briefly daunting, as the Cardassian reproductive system was quite different.

Rather than stare, Garak undid the fastenings on his own trousers, then shoved them down his legs and shifted so he could pull them off completely. Bashir sat in the middle of the bed, watching Garak with dark eyes. Garak crawled toward Bashir, and as he did, Bashir laid down, allowing Garak to straddle him with a sturdy leg on either side of Bashir's. Leaning on his forearms, Garak dipped his head down for a kiss. This time it was Garak who groaned as Bashir wrapped his arms around Garak and opened his mouth to him. Garak pressed his hips into Bashir's, forcing Bashir's prUt up against Garak's wet ajan. Garak's own prUt had not yet everted, but the scales around his ajan, where his prUt resided, were quite sensitive and the sensation was certainly more than just pleasant. To focus his ardour, Garak directed his attention to Bashir's neck and licked the skin there. Bashir's body was warm and his flushed skin tasted saltier than a Cardassian's. Garak nipped at the skin there and felt Bashir's throat vibrate as he groaned, "Garak!"

Garak lifted his head and looked Bashir in the eye. "Was that too much?"

Bashir laughed. "No. Thank you for asking! But no." He reached up and traced Garak's eyebrow ridge with a light touch. "Kiss me again."

Garak was happy to comply. Bashir was an enthusiastic kisser and ardently returned Garak's attentions. It also appeared that Bashir was a biter, as he nipped at Garak's lips before licking his way into Garak's mouth and tangling tongues with Garak.

After several minutes of dedicated kissing, and a great deal of hip grinding and grunting, Bashir wordlessly wriggled and put his hands on Garak's chest, pushing him lightly. Taking the hint, Garak pushed himself off Bashir and rolled over onto his back. Now upright, Bashir leaned back on his heels, hungrily looked Garak up and down, and then fixed him with a questioning gaze. "Do you want to fuck me?"

The question was blunt, but not unexpected. Bashir's openness about matters of sexuality was endearing and allowed them to have previously had an in-depth conversation about expectations regarding sex and intimacy. That made it easy to know what Bashir meant when he said "fuck," a word that had many meanings, several of them related to various sex acts, in Federation Standard English. This made it easy for Garak to answer with an informed "yes."

Bashir grinned, showing his white teeth. "Just a minute." He climbed off the bed and walked over to where his bag was set against the wall. He unzipped the side compartment and pulled out a bottle of clear, viscous liquid. Lubricant. The Cardassian equivalent to the Human penis, the prUt, was naturally lubricated, but Garak understood that when it came to this kind of sex, the more lubricant, the better. Bashir also pulled out a pack of saniwipes, the exact kind the Federation included in their relief packages. Not only did saniwipes work for washing hands thoroughly, but they could be used by Cardassians who did not yet have their water restored to clean themselves. Bashir came back to the bed with the bottle and wipes and climbed on. Garak leaned back on his elbows as he watched Bashir's movements. Bashir's naked form was more than a little inspiring. Garak lazily stroked the outside of his ajan and then let his prUt evert into his hand.

Bashir was briefly distracted by the sight of Garak's own sexual organ and licked his lips before looking Garak in the eye and waving the bottle in his hand. "Do you want to help me get ready, or just watch?" 

"I think I've watched enough," Garak said. Subspace sex was satisfying, but after months of seeing Bashir pleasuring himself alone in his quarters on DS9, Garak was more than interested in getting his hands on Bashir and pleasuring him directly.

Bashir laid out prone on the bed and shoved a plump pillow under his hips. The pillow was quite full and did a good job of elevating Bashir's attractive behind. Bashir crossed his arms and rested his head on them. His head was turned to the side so that Garak could see half of Bashir's face. He looked up at Garak and said, "Start with one finger."

Garak squeezed out a generous helping of lubricant and coated his first three fingers. Bashir spread his legs enough that Garak could fit between them, which offered Garak excellent access. Carefully and with his other hand, Garak pulled one half of his behind away from the other, revealing Bashir's entrance. "Okay," he said, warning Bashir. 

There was a bit of resistance against Garak's first finger, but once that tight muscle was breached, Garak's finger slid into the space relatively easily. Bashir sighed softly, prompting Garak to ask, "Are you okay?"

"Go ahead," Bashir said reassuringly. "It feels good."

Garak slid his finger partially out and then pushed it back in. He felt for Bashir's prostate - it was not difficult to find - and pressing on it elicited a small gasp from Bashir. "Yes," Bashir said softly, hissing out the word. Garak continued to partially withdraw his finger, then tease the prostate when he pushed back in. It made the doctor start to breathe heavily, which Garak took as a good sign.

"Would you like another finger?" Garak asked Bashir.

"Absolutely," Bashir said breathlessly.

Garak carefully obliged, and Bashir responded with a small groan. Garak thought back to their subspace sessions and mimicked Bashir's own movements, moving his fingers in and almost-out. As he did so, he also made a scissoring motion to help further relax the tight muscle. When Garak would start pulling his fingers out, Bashir would push his bottom back to prevent the fingers from escaping his body's clutch.

"Garak," Bashir said a little breathily. "You can add the last finger." As he pushed his third finger in, Bashir moaned lowly, and Garak realized then that his fingers were thicker than Bashir's and that meant Bashir was likely stretching more than usual. Bashir seemed to anticipate Garak's question and offered an "I'm okay" as Garak stretched his hole. "But don't touch my prostate," he ordered. "I don't want to come yet."

It wasn't long before Bashir reached back with his hand and said, "Stop, stop." Bashir pulled his behind forward so that Garak's fingers slid out of Bashir's hole with a wet sound. He rolled over onto his back to look Garak in the eye and said, "I want your cock in me."

"PrUt," Garak corrected him.

"Garak," Bashir said, in his best stern doctor voice. "I want your prUt inside me." 

"That can be arranged," Garak responded. While Bashir adjusted the pillows under his hips and head, and sought the most comfortable position on his back, Garak opened the pack of saniwipes and carefully cleaned his fingers off. The wipes were biodegradable and Garak threw the two he used into the little bin next to his bed. He then reached for his prUt and stroked it at the base, where he was thickest. His irllun, a ring of sensitive scaling was located there and it was the most sensitive part of the organ. His prUt was plenty wet, but Garak thought it prudent to add a little lubricant to it.

"Garak," Bashir said, a little impatient. He was situated with his behind tilted up a little bit and his legs bent and spread. Bashir's prUt was now fully hard, and Bashir was lightly stroking it. A little pre-ejaculate dripped off his prUt and landed on his stomach. Now that the two were in the middle of the action and Garak and Bashir had previously discussed how this sex act should precede, Garak was more confident.

"Don't fret, Doctor," said Garak. He knelt between Bashir's legs again. "I'm ready." In order to be best situated, Garak leaned over Bashir again and with the hand he wasn't supporting himself with, he guided his prUt to Bashir's opening. His prUt started wide at the base and tapered to a thinner diameter at the head, so breaching Bashir's hole was relatively easy. Pushing in further had to be more carefully managed. He went slow and watched Bashir's face for the first sign of trouble. Bashir groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, but when Garak paused, he opened his eyes.

"Don't stop, I'm fine," Bashir assured him.

"As you wish, Doctor." Garak continued, until his hips were pressed up against Bashir's bottom. "How does that feel?"

"Fucking brilliant," Bashir said with a gasp. "Do go on."

Garak pulled back and tried an experimental thrust. Cardassian prUts were most sensitive at the base where the irllun was, making thrusting like a Human with a penis an inefficient way to reach climax. When Garak pushed in, he ground his hips into Bashir's bottom and let Bashir's tight hole clench his prUt and provide pleasure. He could not build up much speed this way, but the effect was impressive, both for Garak and his partner. Bashir wrapped his arms around Garak's back and planted his feet on the bed so that he could match Garak's movements. 

As they pushed and pulled in concert, Bashir ran his fingernails up and down the scales on Garak's back, eliciting a shiver. Together, they made the bed shake and hit the wall, filling the small space with evenly spaced thumps. Garak could hear himself grunting as he exerted himself. These sounds, paired with Bashir's gasping breaths created an erotic cacophony.

Still gasping, Bashir slid his hands up Garak's back and onto his shoulders. Bashir stroked Garak's neck and shoulder scales. Had they been in a different position, Garak would have asked Bashir to use his mouth, but Bashir couldn't reach Garak's neck. In addition, Bashir's hands were not exactly unskilled, and he knew the third neck scale down on both sides, the kinat'hU, was particularly sensitive. With his nails, Bashir softly scratched at those scales with his thumbnails, making Garak hiss out the untranslatable expletive kriss.

"Are you okay?" Bashir asked, his voice shaking a little from their jerking movements.

"Yes," Garak said. 

"More?"

"More," Garak replied. Bashir complied, this time pinching the scales. Shuddering, Garak slammed into Bashir's ass hard, making the doctor yell something unintelligible. 

When Bashir caught his breath, he ran his nails down Garak's chest, then pushed on it again. "Roll over," Bashir said, his firm tone delighting Garak. They rolled and switched positions again. Garak's prUt slipped out of Bashir as they shifted and Bashir sighed at the loss. Once Garak was on his back, Bashir sat down on Garak's prUt hard and grunted. Bashir's own prUt bounced as he moved. Garak always thought that Human prUts had evolved in such a way that cisgender men and others with prUt's were in danger of great 8njury and a great deal of pain should they be attacked with a simple kick. His own prUt, which was protected by his ajan, seemed much more sensible, although Cardassian prUts were on average shorter than Human ones. 

Garak looked at Bashir's organ, which was flushed dark and had smeared pre-ejaculate onto Bashir's belly when Bashir had been on the bottom. Garak regretted having forgotten to pay it any attention. He pointed to the prUt and looked Bashir in the eye. "Do you want me to touch you?"

"No, no," Bashir said. "Not yet." He bounced a little on Garak's prUt, then leaned in to kiss Garak. Bashir kissed intensely, and Garak could feel him breathing hard through his nose as he kissed Garak deeply. Garak placed his hand on the back of Bashir's head and returned the ardent kiss. As they explored each other's lips and mouths, Bashir slowly rocked on Garak's prUt and Garak met his movements by rolling his hips. After a few minutes, Bashir broke the kiss to slide his mouth to Garak's neck. He licked and sucked and gently nipped Garak's neck, an act that made Garak gasp and grab Bashir's bottom, burying his prUt into Bashir's hole. Bashir started sucking on the third scale down, Garak's kinat'hU. Garak shuddered and swore, and Bashir muttered, "yes," his hot breath tickling Garak. Garak dug his nails in the soft flesh of Bashir's behind and gasped a little. After several minutes of this dedicated attention, Bashir stopped to let Garak catch his breath. He then thoroughly licked his palm and fingers, and slipped his hand between them and took his prUt in hand. He wrapped his hand around his no doubt desperate prUt and started stroking himself at a vigorous pace.

Garak watched with interest as Bashir ground his rear into Garak's hips, and moved his hand up and down his prUt rapidly. 

"Do you like watching?" Bashir asked.

"When it's you, my dear," Garak replied honestly. Garak placed his hands on Bashir's hips and braced his feet to help Bashir rise and fall. Bashir, his hand swiftly moving up his down his prUt, had sweat breaking out on his face and chest. Garak couldn't help but admire the flushed and glistening Human on top of him.

"You're beautiful like this," Garak said, and Bashir responded with a breathy laugh.

"Yeah?" Bashir's face was already reddened from arousal and exertion, so it was hard to tell if Bashir was embarrassed or surprised.

"Yes, of course." 

Bashir smiled at that, and took his hand off his prUt. "Do you still want to touch me?"

"Certainly."

"Use the lubricant. The spit alone was a mistake," Bashir said laughing. He handed Garak the bottle, and Garak squeezed out a carefully judged portion of the lubricant. He coated his hand and wrapped it around Bashir's prUt.

Bashir resumed his up and down movements, seeking pleasure from Garak's prUt, but his movements were jerky as Garak swiftly slid his hand over Bashir's prUt. Being hard, Bashir's foreskin had retracted, exposing his prUt's flushed head, shiny with pre-ejaculate. Garak pumped Bashir's prUt with his fist and ran his thumb over the head repeatedly. He then thumbed at the frenulum, a part of the Human prUt Garak learned about via his own research. Garak's wrist ached a little, a natural consequence resulting from the position his hand was forced into, but Garak wasn't overly bothered. Bashir was biting his lower lip and breathing hard and Garak was pleased to be contributing to his pleasure.

The penetration and manual stimulation was apparently too much to tolerate for long, as after just a couple minutes, Bashir yelped and shuddered as three spurts of ejaculate hit Garak's stomach and fist. Bashir shuddered and gasped for several moments before he let out a large sigh and stopped moving on Garak's prUt, his head dropping down.

"Are you alright?" Garak asked.

Bashir lifted his head, his breathing a little fast. "I'm fine." He bit his lip once more. "Would you be annoyed if I asked you to roll over again?

"Why?"

"Because I want to let you finish, but my legs hurt."

"Then of course I'm not annoyed," Garak replied. 

"Oh, good." Bashir lifted himself off Garak and then dramatically flopped down next to him. "Hand me the saniwipes, please."

Garak took one for himself before passing the package to Bashir. He cleaned himself quickly, as did Bashir, both wanting to get back to their first coupling. Once done, Bashir wiggled on his back again, with the same pillow under his hips. Garak knelt between his legs, lightly holding his prUt. 

He leaned in over Bashir and eased his way back into him. Bashir, whose prut was softening, gasped a little and startled Garak.

"I'm fine," Bashir assured Garak. "Go on."

"Are you sure?" Garak knew one could be oversensitive after climaxing, and Garak wanted wanted to be sure he wasn't causing Bashir discomfort. There were other ways of reaching completion.

"I'm sure, Garak," Bashir said. "I'm not 18 anymore, so I don't think I can recover just yet, but it still feels good. He lightly slapped Garak on the behind. "Go on."

Garak started rolling his hips and underneath him, Bashir wrapped his slim legs around Garak and grabbed his shoulders. As Bashir had already climaxed, Garak's movements were meant to specifically cater to his own anatomy. Garak made shallow thrusts and moved his prUt in a circular motion to stimulate his irllun. Bashir started stroking his neck and shoulder scales with his nails again. Every time Bashir teased his kinat'hU Garak shuddered and ground his hips into Bashir's ass, hard, and every time that happened, Bashir gasped. Bashir's prUt was now soft, but it appeared that he was still enjoying being penetrated and having his hole stretched by Garak's movements.

"Oh, fuck," Bashir groaned. Garak's stomach fluttered at the sound and he faltered for a moment, but kept moving.

"Almost there," Garak grunted, words failing him. Bashir, still faithfully attending to Garak's sensitive scales, wrapped his arm around Garak's neck and pulled him down. Garak thought he had a kiss coming, but instead tried to bite at his right kinat'hU. Garak gasped and it took a moment for Garak to realise it was his own voice producing the high-pitched whine. Bashir then lifted his hips and let his hole squeeze Garak's prUt. Garak started gasping for breath and his toes were curling. Bashir scratched and Garak's scales on his back, then moved his head to bite Garak's kinat'hU again. The surprise of it, paired with Bashir's tightness and the little gasps he made, left Garak falling over the edge. His hips stuttered and he shook through his climax.

After, Garak felt a little short of breath as he pulled out of Bashir and laid down next to him. Bashir was waiting with a long kiss. He wrapped his arms around Garak, and Garak rested his head on Bashir's chest.

Bashir let out a long breath. "Well that was something."

Garak raised an eyebrow ridge. "I trust that means you were satisfied?"

"'Satisfied' is one word for it, yes," Bashir said. He kissed Garak on the forehead. "I've been fucked so well I can't think of a proper adjective at the moment." 

Garak laughed at that answer. "I'm glad to hear it. I also found the coupling enjoyable."

"That's good," Bashir said. "Because I'm definitely going to want to do that again." He paused. "After a suitable recovery period, of course."

"Naturally." Garak himself felt a little worn out, and his prUt had reverted back into its home. He also felt very comfortable for the moment: Bashir's body was warm and with his head on Bashir's chest, Garak could hear his four chambered heart beating steadily. "In the interim, this is nice."

"It is," Bashir agreed. He tightened his arms a little around Garak like a firm hug. "I just want you to know I'm happy to be here. Also, I adore you."

"The feeling is mutual, Doctor," Garak replied. He lifted his head from Bashir's chest and shifted his body so he could lean in to kiss Bashir. In many situations, Garak found it easier to express himself via actions, not words. He was not trained to tell the truth, but rather to obfuscate it, hide it entirely, or destroy evidence of it. In intimate moments like these, it was much easier to kiss or gratify one sexually than it was to say, "I adore you too." This had caused problems in relationships before. Responding to Bashir's admission of adoration with the truth was quite the step for Garak. He already knew he'd probably find many excuses to kiss Bashir, but in this case it was to hide the bit of vulnerability Garak felt.

After several minutes of companionable silence while they caught their breath, Bashir put his hand on Garak's chest and pulled away. He was frowning and said, "This isn't going to work for me." Garak's stomach dropped a little.

"What do you mean?" Garak asked, bracing himself for a confrontation.

"I can't keep lying in the wet spot," Bashir said, making a face. "It's cold and I need to clean up."

Garak laughed, mostly at himself, and Bashir gave him a look. "What's so funny?"

"I am, my dear. I am. How inconsiderate of me. If you like, I can show you how to work the bathtub." Garak shifted so that Bashir could sit up and get out of bed.

"That'd be nice," Bashir said. Garak felt a little silly, and to his relief, he didn't bring it up again.

…

After both Bashir and Garak had taken a bath (one at a time, because the bathtub was very small) and after Bashir helped Garak put fresh sheets on the bed, Garak dug out a bottle of kanar from the safe and two glasses. It was not the traditional black kanar made from the black nartis berries, the liquor most popular with Cardassians. Instead it was orange, and made from red nartis berries. It was a little less thick and had a lower alcohol content than black kanar, which was quite strong. The bottle had been a gift from Dr. Parmak when he heard Bashir was coming from Deep Space Nine to live with Garak. 

Garak carried the kanar out the door and found Bashir sitting on the bench, leaning against the house, watching the sky and sipping water. The sun was setting and the sky was painted with reds and oranges and pinks. 

When Bashir saw Garak he scooted over to give Garak room to sit on the bench. 

"I brought something a little stronger than water," Garak said, brandishing the unopened bottle. 

Bashir looked at the bottle suspiciously. "It looks like kanar."

"It is indeed kanar." Bashir opened his mouth, but Garak spoke first. "I promise, it tastes better than black kanar. If you don't like it, you don't have to drink it. Indeed, you need not try it if you don't wish. I brought it out because I'd like to make a toast."

Bashir looked at the bottle skeptically, but he said, "I'll try it." He raised his hand, and made the gesture for "small" with his thumb and first finger. "I only want a little."

"Very good, Doctor." Garak set the glasses on the little table next to the bench and uncorked the bottle. He poured himself two fingers worth of the liquor. Bashir received a glass with half that amount. Bashir set his water on the table and accepted his kanar. Garak sat down next to Bashir and raised his glass. Bashir did the same.

"To us, and new beginnings," Garak said.

"To us," Bashir echoed. "And new beginnings." They clinked glasses. Bashir downed his kanar quickly, like a child taking medicine, and Garak watched for his reaction. Bashir did make a face, but he responded with, "Not too bad. It tastes better than black kanar. He held out his glass. "Hit me." 

Garak poured him a larger serving and set the bottle on the table. He them took a sip from his own glass. The kanar was exceedingly smooth, which Bashir remarked upon after taking a more measured sip.

"It's a 2369. That was a very good year for nartis berries, and consequently for kanar. There was a lot of rain that year."

"It's good, for kanar," Bashir said. Garak chuckled at that and Bashir put on an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry. It isn't terrible. It's just not, you know, my favourite."

"Understandable. I suppose it is an acquired taste, particularly for non-Cardassians." Humans did have a noticeably different sense of taste, or palate than Cardassians. Garak put his hand on Bashir's knee. "If it makes you feel any better I loathe root beer."

Now it was Bashir's turn to laugh. "That does make me feel better. I guess soda is an acquired taste too." 

"Perhaps." Garak lifted his glass and finished the last bit of his kanar. Bashir was watching as Garak set his glass down.

"You know, Garak…"

"Yes?"

"If you were looking for something to do, I think I've caught my second wind."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, yes." Bashir said, his voice low. He leaned in closer to Garak, and they kissed while Garak debated the merits of coupling outside. Due to the destruction of countless homes on Cardassia Prime, their nearest neighbour was half a kilometre away. There were no lights coming from that direction. Sitting under the big sky, it felt like they were the lone inhabitants of the planet. Still, the light from inside inexplicably called to him.

Garak pulled back from the kiss. "Would you like to come inside with me, Doctor?"

Bashir laughed, and Garak realised he had inadvertently made a pun in English. "Mr. Garak," Bashir said, still chuckling. "I'd be delighted."

Garak stacked the two empty glasses and put the stopper in the kanar bottle. He moved to rise, but Bashir put a hand on Garak's arm.

"You know, Garak, there's a Human tradition observed when couples move in together. We should have done it the first time I entered the house, but I forgot. Do you want to do it now?"

Garak was suspicious. "What is the tradition, Doctor?"

"One person carries the other over the threshold."

Garak did his best not to laugh. Cardassians had many traditions that likely seemed odd to other species. "Does it matter who is carried?"

"No," Bashir said. "Not anymore. Centuries ago it was only brides who were carried into the home. Now you don't have to be newlyweds: people do it when they move in together. The person being carried is usually the smaller one, unless the other partner is stronger."

"I see. So I would be the one carrying you in? And then that's it?"

"Yes? I know it seems silly, but…" Bashir's voice trailed off.

"All right, Doctor," Garak said, giving in easily. The doctor had just resigned his commission, traveled to a war-torn planet, and moved into a home so tiny the toilet was in an outbuilding. A fully plumbed outbuilding, but an outbuilding nevertheless. Garak was deeply thankful for Bashir, and although Garak had difficulty expressing that in words, he could easily show his appreciation through his actions. "As you wish."

Bashir grinned, pleased, and gave Garak a quick kiss on the lips. They both rose off the bench at the same time. Bashir picked up the glasses and bottle of orange kanar and stood expectantly,

"How should I carry you?"

"In your arms, if you can manage it. If not, however you want." As it turned out, using heavy stones to build a memorial with limited equipment was excellent for upper body strength. Since Bashir's hands were full he could not lift Bashir the traditional way as Bashir could not wrap his arms around Garak's neck. Instead, Garak squatted, wrapped his arms around Bashir's legs, then stood. Bashir started laughing as soon as he was in the air. Thankfully, he was not exactly heavy, so Garak did not have much of a problem walking Bashir and the kanar Bashir was carrying over to the door. Bashir ducked as they went through the entrance.

Once they were inside, Garak asked, "Is that it?"

"Yes!' Bashir was still laughing. "You can put me down now."

Garak had a better idea. He carried Bashir to the back of the house, to where the bed was, and set him gently down on the mattress.

Bashir was still tittering when Garak crawled into the bed himself. Bashir looked at the kanar and glasses in his hands and set them on the bedside table, just in time for Garak to lean into a kiss.

"Mmph," Bashir said, his lips pressed up against Garak's. He pulled back. "I just want you to know this is the best day I've had in a long time."

Garak felt the same way. He said, "I cannot promise that all our days will be this good, but I can promise I'm committed to making them as good as possible."

"Garak, that's by far the sweetest thing a partner has said to me," Bashir said. He wiped his eyes. "I'm not crying, my eyes are just watering."

A likely story, but Garak would not call Bashir out for the little lie. Instead, he poured them both a small amount of the kanar, which was still on the bedside table. He handed Bashir his glass then held up his own.

"Another toast?" Bashir asked.

"Yes," Garak said. "To good days ahead." 

"To good days," Bashir repeated. He wiggled his eyebrows. "And good nights."

Both cast bemused glances at each other and started laughing. The sound filled their little home, and Garak found himself hoping that was a sign of good things to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! Finally, the piece I wanted to write in the first place. It took me five years, but I did it. I hope you enjoyed the story. 
> 
> Mary G. Ross was the first known Native woman engineer. She seemed the perfect person to name a Starfleet vessel after. 
> 
> I can be found on Tumblr as [sssibilance](https://sssibilance.tumblr.com/) discussing disability and chronic illness along with cats and fandom.


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